Much Ado About Kyle
by Gariand
Summary: Response to BC3's story challenge. When Stan notices Kyle falling for Kenny, he has a moral dilemma on his hands.
1. The Beginning

**First of all, South Park belongs to Matt and Trey, and the basic idea belongs to Brat Child 3. This story is a response to her plot challenge. And Much Ado About Nothing, which is where the title comes from, some quotes and scenes will be reminiscent of, is by William Shakespeare. Other than that, I wrote it. **

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 1: The Beginning **

_"Friendship is constant in all other things  
_

_Save in the office and affairs of love:  
_

_Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;  
_

_Let every eye negotiate for itself  
_

_And trust no agent."_

_-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing _

Many people said our friendship would remain unshaken, like a rock. It always seemed that no matter what kooky adventure life would throw at us, we would always remain standing, possibly holding on to each other for support, or comfort. Sure we had had some bad times, some really crap times together if I'm perfectly honest. But still, we'd always pull it together and remain "The Super Best Friends". We thought it would be forever us, that no one else in the world would matter more to each other than, well, each other.

Of course the rumours started to fly, in what sort of typical American school wouldn't there have been rumours? Still, Kyle could always take these in his stride; after all, he had endured much worse from the fatass in the past. But me? Funnily enough, I would always cling to Kyle even more so in these times, which undoubtedly, made the rumours spread even faster and further. Still, as long as I had Kyle on my side, I felt impenetrable.

Kyle was a scary force when reckoned with. After all, when Craig had the nerve to graffiti my locker with "The Football Captain's a fag", Kyle had clenched his fists (a sure-fire sign that he's pissed off) and showed Craig exactly why nobody should mess with anything to do with Kyle Broflovski. Craig ended up with a black eye, and Kyle ended up being lectured by Mr Mackey on why "violence is bad, m'kay?" Still, it stopped many others from publicly voicing their opinion on mine and Kyle's relationship.

Still, even though people no longer said it to our faces, it never shook off the slight tension that was there. Of course we always just carried on like normal, but it sometimes seemed a bit… staged. As if we were role-playing the perfect best friends. We never brought it up, it seeming prudent to merely carry on as we always had done. There was no doubt that the subject would rear its head sooner or later, but I and Kyle preferred "later" to "sooner".

Surely enough though, a few years down the line, and we were in high school. If gossip in elementary was bad, high school was sure to be much worse for the both of them. Not to mention, we were still stuck with Cartman, and he could hardly make the situation any better. Kyle may be able to handle jibes from practically anybody, excepting that fat bastard.

"_Aw, that's so sweet you guys. You wanna go somewhere to make out or something?"_

Only Cartman had the balls (or was just plain stupid) to carry on with his constant mockery, but this mockery was the fuel to the flame to the whisperings of South Park High.

"_Oh yeah, them two have been fags since kindergarten."_

Soon it was round the whole school, students and faculty, and not even Kyle could take all of them on. Besides, curiously, it was those rumours that actually sparked us to talk about it again and to actually be honest with each other. It was those hateful rumours that brought us closer together.

I had always felt something for Kyle that was more than friendship. I had plenty of friends that could come and go as they pleased, but only with Kyle had there been a certain connection, as if I could never let go. Sure there had been a period where I was totally crazy on Wendy Testaberger, but I had never been as close to her as I had been to Kyle. No matter how bad I may have felt when we broke up, I knew that I would be damn near suicidal if something similar happened concerning Kyle.

Of course, when somebody calls you a fag, you can't help but question yourself, unless you are completely sure of your sexuality, which incidentally, I wasn't. There was something… amazing about Kyle, something nobody else had, and whether it was love or just really really great friendship, well, did it matter?

* * *

"_Stan?"_

_I turned my head to him, pausing the Okama Gamesphere: 3__rd__ Edition that I had received for Christmas. It was amazing how much better a console can get as time goes on._

"_Stan, we've always been close right?"_

"_Of course."_

_Kyle looked uncomfortable as he carried on. "Stan, do you ever get… bothered… about what people say?"_

_I shrugged my shoulders and looked back to the screen. "Well maybe… a little. I mean… we are pretty close, right? I mean… people do talk…"_

"_Yeah, I know…" Kyle replied. "But… ever think that… they might be right?"_

_He looked away quickly, his cheeks as red as his hair. Was he trying to tell me…?_

"_Kyle?" I said softly. "Are you trying to say that… you're… you're…?"_

_He nodded, his previously flushed face now as white as a sheet, and looking as if he was about to be sick. This was no time for me to be intolerant, especially seeing as I had had some doubts myself._

"_Kyle?" I repeated. "Kyle, it's okay if… if you're gay, y'know it's cool…"_

"_I'm sorry, Stan," he said suddenly, his voice now sounding empty. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."_

_It was true that as well as having thoughts about my own sexuality I had wondered about Kyle. He had never seemed interested in girls or dating, and so this "confession", if you will, did not seem to bother me at all. In a way, I was sort of happy; it gave me a chance to be honest back to him._

"_Dammit, Kyle, don't say sorry like this. Don't make it sound like its some awful thing you're saying."_

_But none of this seemed to reassure Kyle like I wanted. He stood up quickly, green eyes brimming with tears._

"_Well, I'm sorry, Stan! How do you want me to say it? 'Guess what? I'm gay!' Is that how you wanted it? This is terrible, Stan! First they're just rumours, but I found truth in them! I tried being tactful with you, Stan, but obviously you don't want tact! You just want me to admit it, because you believe them too!"_

_Kyle had gone off on one of his rages, which was normal, but his words stung; as if he thought me against him._

"_Goddamnit, Kyle! You think you're the only one who was affected by these rumours? Do you? God-fucking-dammit!"_

"_Like they could, Stan! You had that damn Wendy constantly on your side, telling people how you couldn't be a "fag" because of your relationship together!"_

"_That was years ago, Kyle! I can't help it if she insists on still bringing it up!"_

_This was it, I had to say something before we stopped trading words and started trading blows._

"_Look, she was wrong to do it, but she was only trying to help. She doesn't know how I feel now!"_

"_And what do you mean by that?" he snarled._

"_Look, Kyle, maybe… maybe those comments, well, they got me questioning too, okay, maybe… Look I'm not great at sentiments or shit or something. Okay, but don't think that it's just you who was affected by what people say, 'kay?" _

_I looked up into his eyes and a flicker of understanding passed between us. He then took the chance to smile slightly and settle back to the Gamesphere. _

We hadn't said much straight after, but it was mutually agreed that this incident was influential to our relationship. It seemed after our confessions to each other we couldn't help but catch each other's eyes and smile during class. I started noticing Kyle a whole lot more than before (if it was possible), and noticing everything I liked about him. It was amazing just how much we both changed after that exchanging of words. And it was all for the better.

We became closer, in more than just friendship terms, meeting up more often in more and more discreet places, for fear of Cartman finding us out and making one hell of a deal about it.

I don't know exactly what it was, or why I hadn't noticed it sooner, although perhaps I had and just mistaken it for something else, but I'm digressing now, anyway, there was something about Kyle that I found incredibly attractive, something irresistible, something that made me want to keep meeting him over and over, and I got the signal that Kyle felt the same way back.

We shared our first kiss one night while feeling incredibly brave, and split apart with similar expressions and simultaneous "Oh God"s. It was hard for us to keep our ever growing relationship a secret; however, it appeared that we weren't as good at keeping it under wraps as we had thought.

* * *

"_I think it's lovely that Stanley and Kyle are still such good friends," I heard my mother say. "I mean, they've stuck together since elementary, and while it is nice that they haven't lost touch or something, I can't help but worry why Kyle has never bothered with anyone else."_

"_Well, they've just retained their friendship very well that's all," came the heavily accented voice of Sheila Broflovski. It appeared that they had got together to discuss "something" and that something was me and Kyle. I had snuck up by the door and was listening at the crack as soon as I had heard my name mentioned._

"_Look, Sheila, you know I don't mean to sound… well… but it does seem like they are pretty close, don't they?"_

"_What exactly are you trying to say, Sharon?" I was sure I could detect a slight change in tone from Kyle's mom's voice._

"_Maybe we should just outright ask them, but I know my boy, and I've realised that maybe there is something… special… between them."_

_I heard Sheila sigh. "I realise that Kyle may have never really… had any girlfriends… or really… well… But he'd talk to me about something like this. I know Kyle."_

"_Well, Sheila, I would have expected Stanley to say something, anything, but it is a sensitive subject, isn't it?"_

_At that point, I had rushed out of the front door hurriedly ran to Kyle's house down the road; years of football practice had given me quite an athletic body and I was able to make it in less than five minutes._

"_Stan? What the hell?"_

"_Kyle! Listen to me!" I had said, while still attempting to catch my breath. "Kyle, your mom, she's round my house now! They're discussing us!"_

_Kyle's eyes had widened at this. "But why? I mean… we've been pretty discreet!"_

_We had been discreet. We hadn't even dared meeting somewhere where there was even a possibility that someone we knew would be there._

"_Oh, shit!" Kyle was clutching at his hair now. "My mom… Jesus… what did she say?"_

"_Kyle, calm down!"_

"_Calm down! Stan! What did she say? Are you absolutely sure?" Kyle's words came quickly, his face becoming more and more flushed by the second._

"_Please, Ky, cool it! Okay?" I had to calm him down before he gave himself a heart attack or something. "Look, so what if they ask?"_

"_Stan! My mom is gonna kill me! No, she will break my arms and legs, THEN she'll kill me!"_

_I placed my arms around his scrawny shoulders, before kissing him lightly on his neck. "Kyle, don't worry about it. It'll be fine."_

_His anxious form relaxed into my body. He nuzzled back into my neck, his soft red hair tickling my cheek. "Okay, I trust you, Stan." _

It turned out that the coming out to our parents didn't go as badly as Kyle obviously expected. Our mothers cried and said how proud they were of us being truthful to them, before giving us a lecture on safe sex (Kyle's mom more than anything) while our fathers shuffled around a bit before mumbling about how we were still their sons et cetera. Evidently the "famous hot tub incident", was still on their minds.

Finally with our parents' assurance, it seemed that mine and Kyle's relationship was in full bloom. So what if anyone else knew? Did it really matter, as long as we had not only each other, but our parents behind us as well?

I felt as if nothing could go wrong, as if life was suddenly a whole lot better than yesterday had been. I had Kyle, the most wonderful person in the world as a boyfriend. And he lit up my life like nobody else could.

I don't know how it all came to this, how I couldn't spot it sooner. I mean, I had always known that Kenny was close to us, the both of us, although evidently more Kyle than me. Kyle and Kenny may have seemed like opposites a lot of the time, but there was definitely a good friendship between them, or so I thought.

There were clues to Kyle's increasing affection to Kenny; the slight glances and smiles that we had shared at first. Of course, I wrote it off as mere friendly looks, after all, Kyle was in love with me.

But it grew, Kyle would pay more attention to Kenny during lunch break than me, Kyle would pass more notes to Kenny during English than he would to me. Of course, he would always come back to mine after school and proclaim he loved me, so I wasn't going to be petty about a mere good friendship between them. But as time went by, it became more and more painfully obvious; whether or not Kenny himself had noticed, Kyle was falling for Kenny.

* * *

**Wow. I think that was the longest chapter I've ever written. I'm very proud of myself. :D**

**To Brat Child 3: Seeing as this was a response to your challenge, I would be very grateful to hear your thoughts on it. Don't worry! There is still more to come! And hopefully as tear jerking as you expect it to be!**

**But anyway, thank you for reading!**

**Gari**


	2. The Jealousy

**Much Ado About Kyle **

**Chapter 2: The Jealousy**

_"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."  
_

_- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing_

Kenny looked over the desks, through the sea of heads bowed over their morning test, searching for a certain pair of green eyes. I almost felt sick at the sight of it. I felt even sicker when I saw Kyle glance up and give the blonde a cheeky wink back.

Am I paranoid? Am I justified in my suspicions? Am I just making something out of nothing?

I know what I see. I can see exactly what sparked between me and Kyle when we began to become more than simple schoolboy pals. At best, it's merely Kenny filling the void I left when I was no longer Kyle's best friend, but his boyfriend. But like I said, I know what I see, and I know, no matter how much I may try to convince myself, that this is not the case.

Even now, as he and Kenny are sharing smiling looks, I can see so much in his eyes, and the same reflected in Kenny's eyes; Kyle used to give me that look when we started going out together. A look that indicated admiration, trust and affection. You may be surprised at how well I can read Kyle, but in my defence, I have known him since kindergarten.

I used to think he'd save that look only for me; that he'd gaze upon no other, and give that very grin he was currently sharing with Kenny to nobody other than me. He made me feel special, as Kyle rarely truly smiled at anything, and… I'm just repeating myself now. But I can still recall the same pang of jealously, almost as if Kyle's looks stung me as deeply as he obviously adored Kenny.

I looked down at my paper, to find a couple of ink smudges where some unruly tears had escaped. Damn emotions running away with themselves. I wiped my hand quickly over the wet blots, but I only succeeded in making it worse. Damn it. The situation wasn't helped as a heavily scrawled note, bearing the legend "Kyle" on the top side, was passed my way. I recognised the handwriting immediately, and with a large amount of self restraint, I managed to pass it to my right unopened. Fuck them and their fucking notes. It was about the millionth time I've had to pass one of these damn things today. In over sixteen years of knowing each other, I doubt not even me or Kyle passed as many notes in a week as they do in a single lesson. Fuck it.

I had practically given up on this damn test at this point, and the stifled sniggers from Kyle beside me would have at one point amused me; now they annoyed the hell out of me.

* * *

Kyle grasped my hand quickly as we left the classroom, pulling me close toward him. I was tempted to push him away and closer towards Kenny, but damn! It was good to feel his body against mine. To be able to walk through school and blatantly be pressed against a member of the same sex used to be taboo, but me and Kyle managed to break those barriers here, even inciting other students to proudly stroll out of metaphorical closets with heads held high. It wasn't as if "gay was cool" as we had thought (and then abandoned) so many years ago, but we weren't sniggered at or given any less respect by our peers.

Well, Cartman threw a few gags here and there, but he was the only one who was serious with his cries of "faggot" or "buttlord" at us or the other gay students, and Cartman alone was easy to handle, especially when you had the rest of the student body on your side.

Kyle was breathing slightly down my neck at this point, causing me to wriggle in his grip. I felt a meaty figure brush past my arm and a distinct hiss of "It just got faggier in here."

"Jealous," I whispered back.

Cartman whipped around, scowling. "Yeah, like I'm jealous of a couple of frickin' fairies! You're sick, y'know that?"

The hall had stopped in their tracks. Like I had said, the school wasn't anti-gay, still it was a high school; anything concerning homosexuals was juicy gossip, and everyone was keen to see how this confrontation would end.

I squared him up and let go of Kyle's hand for a second. I walked slowly and unnervingly towards him, smiling slightly. "You know, the leading reason people are homophobic is because they're hiding their own homosexual tendencies."

The hall erupted with laughter as a blush rushed to Cartman's fat cheeks. He turned and stomped away through the laughing throng. I looked around to find Kyle and my previous grin faded as I saw him clinging to Kenny as he whispered into his ear and cracked up with a fit of giggles. Any previous joy I had felt at showing Cartman up had sunk, now I just felt sick.

* * *

"Hey, Stan! You want Margherita or Vegetarian Special?"

"Whichever is cheapest, I don't care!"

Kyle turned his mouth back to the phone, and with a sigh asked the guy on the other end which was cheapest. As it was Friday, and with the added benefit of my parents being out, we had organised one of our private nights in together; just us, a couple of pizzas and a rented movie. And if possible a little alcohol, if any could be found.

"Ten minutes? Great." Kyle placed the phone back into its holder, with a slightly agitated look on his face. "Shit, Stan. The guy knew me. Now you've only furthered the stereotype of money-grabbing Jew."

I held out my arms to him in mock sympathy. "Awwww, Kyyyyle." He enthusiastically accepted the offer of a cuddle and sat on my lap, grabbing a quick kiss before leaning his head on my shoulder. "Aww, dude, your Jew-hair's tickling my ear!"

"You love it though," he purred back.

We grinned at each other stupidly, for how long neither was sure. It was moments like these where it was almost like time stopped still, and it was just me and Kyle, more than just friends, more than just partners; we were lovers. I loved Kyle like nobody I had ever known. He was my everything.

Still, Fate likes to screw up perfect moments like these.

A loud knock came from the door. I (reluctantly) shoved Kyle off my lap, and picked up the money from the sideboard, mentally cursing the Pizza Delivery for ruining my romantic moment.

Of course, as luck would have it. It wasn't the Pizza Delivery at all.

"Heyyyy! It's Stan, my Man! 'Sup, Bro!"

A certain blonde, with a too-small parka wrapped around his thin frame stood on my porch, brandishing a couple of bottles of alcohol.

"Well, well, well! What have we here? A couple's night in?" His hawk-like eyes scanned the room. "And not a drop of booze! Looks like I arrived just in time!"

I wasn't rude enough to turn him away at the door, but it was damn near close. It was one thing to invite yourself over to a friends house without calling, it was another to invite yourself over to a friends house without calling when friend in question has his boyfriend over. And the fact that it was Kenny only made the situation worse.

You should have seen Kyle's eyes as Kenny walked in the room.

"Kenny!" he shrieked, throwing an arm around him. "And bearing…" he grabbed a bottle from Kenny's gloved hands and peered at the faded label.

"I have no idea you guys," Kenny admitted. "It's not enough to get wasted on, but alcohol is alcohol!"

"Damn, Ken," I said, with a hint of annoyance. "You really shouldn't have…"

"Nonsense! You know I'm always available to aid sober friends!"

Funnily, enough, although Kenny took my comment as me being grateful, I was being serious. Dammit, Kenny.

Of course, as soon as Kenny realised we had ordered pizzas, he could only stay longer, much to the joy of Kyle. If I hadn't been sure of his attraction before, then that night proved definite to me. Kyle can get tipsy on punch for Christ's sake, unlabeled booze… well… it certainly relaxed him. I didn't touch a drop, so everything I saw was genuine. Touching, smiling, giggling; it was all there. I felt like the third wheel.

God Damn! It was going to be mine and Kyle's night together! It was going to be just us two, having fun together, relaxing together, and being intimate together. It would have been in bad taste to act like it was just me and Kyle while Kenny was around, so why do they act like that while I'm around?

I was more than relieved when a slightly inebriated Kenny excused himself and headed home. I only wish I could have said the same for a slightly inebriated Kyle; the sheer disappointment on his face was unmistakeable. I couldn't help but wonder, had I seen him look like that when I left him.

He peered out the door, waving Kenny off stupidly. As Kenny turned round the corner back to his dilapidated shack of a home, Kyle's mutter made envy course through my veins.

"Kenny's a great guy, isn't he?" A small wistful smile caressed his lips.

I swallowed my original retort before giving a politer reply. "Yes he is. Come on..." I said, trying to get normality back, "let's get back to that film."

He smiled back at me and slipped a skinny arm around my waist. With a boyfriend like Kyle, it was no wonder I was jealous of him even looking at another guy, let alone attracted to another.

* * *

**Hooray! Another chapter done!**

**Nothing much to say right now but "Thank you for reading!"**

**Gari**


	3. The Confrontation

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 3: The Confrontation

* * *

**

_"Everyone can master a grief but he that has it"_

_-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

* * *

_

"_So… uh… Stan? You found a girlfriend yet?"_

_I sighed at his question, deciding against answering; at least then my father could make up an answer of his own to his liking._

"_You still seeing that Wendy chick?"_

_Evidently, my brain-dead dad had mistaken my silence for a 'yes'. "Dad, we broke up in, like, fourth grade. Of course, I'm not going out with her." I lowered my head to my breakfast, trying in vain to halt the conversation before it went into full flow. Still, he just wouldn't let it go._

"_Jus' sayin' is all, Stan. I mean, it's not exactly… healthy to just stay with guys for the rest of your life."_

_I peered at him, trying to convey my irritation at his previous statement. "Healthy?"_

_He suddenly looked embarrassed and tried to focus on his bacon in front of him. Still, I must have unnerved him enough to receive a response. "I mean, hanging out with guys is cool and all… they're your buddies, after all. But you need to have to have experience with the opposite sex."_

"_I have had experience with the opposite sex, she's called Wendy." I looked away from him, annoyed at his ramblings. "Look, dad, I realise what you're trying to say…" I did really. He was trying to tell me what I attempted to tell my dog so long ago. "But to be honest, I'm just not interested in dating at the moment."_

_His interpretation of that statement couldn't be clearer. I left the room after that; I wasn't in the mood for some good-old anti-queer propaganda thrown at me.

* * *

_

"_Stanley?"_

_I raised my head groggily from its position on the desk; I had fallen asleep on my English homework, which is easy to do, I guess. Still, it's not that bad; it's another lesson I get to sit right next to Kyle in, which can turn a sleep-inducing hour into something infinitely better. I was smiling just thinking about it._

"_Yah, mom?"_

_I swung my head around to see my mother leaning against my door frame, her bright blue eyes reflecting my desk lamp, as well as worry, concern, nearly everything a mom feels for her kids. And it scared me._

_She obviously wanted to talk with me, privately; I could tell from how she shut the door and sat herself tentatively on my bed, willing me to sit beside her. I had to comply. She'd never let it go if I plainly refused. My mom was the sort of person who believed in "Problem shared, problem halved." She would never fully understand that sometimes, it's just better to keep things to yourself. Sure, it hurts, but at least it doesn't hurt anyone else._

"_Stanley… I've just been having a talk with your father." I rolled my eyes. Suddenly, I knew exactly why she had come. "I don't know exactly what was said between you and your father, but he's under the impression…" she took a deep breath in and clasped my hand. "Stanley, is there something you want to tell us?"_

_Yes, mom. There's a lot I want to tell you. I want to tell you about a certain boy who you've always assumed is no more than a friend, but over the past few months we've realised just how special our relationship is, gone out secretly, made out secretly, fucked secretly and we're really not keen on telling you or anyone for fear of being labelled faggots, being sent to "Pray Away the Gay" camps or kicked out of the house._

"_No, mom, there's nothing… really."_

_I couldn't look her in the eye as she walked out.

* * *

_

"_Look, Kyle. I know what I heard. They've guessed. It's only a matter of time before they start probing us, asking us questions. If we just tell them straight out then we can avoid those awkward questions."_

_Kyle swirled his coffee uncertainly. We had once again retreated to our favourite hiding place, an out of town café. I could tell just how keen he was to avoid the situation altogether. "But what do we say? Guess what? We're gay!"_

"_I wish it was as easy as that, Kyle, but it's not." I had seen Kyle's fear that night our parents talked, and I could see it now as his eyes darted from side to side and trickles of sweat rolled down his face. Noticing his discomfort, I shimmied around the table and placed my arm around his shoulders._

"_Dammit, Stan. I can't do it! I can't say it to them… It'll… It'll kill them, Stan!"_

_I rubbed his back soothingly. I had to admit, I wouldn't have wanted to be in Kyle's shoes. I mean, my parents were harsh at times, and it was a wonder I was even considering opening the closet door, but if there's one person in the world I wouldn't want mad at me was Kyle's mom._

"_Kyle… I know it's hard. But do you like sneaking around like this? Do you want your mom forcing you to explain why you didn't tell her sooner? If they kick us out then we'll just get a place of our own somewhere. You'll see! It's gonna be fine, Kyle. It's gonna work out fine."_

_I was babbling at this point, determined to calm Kyle down, determined to make him see that this was the right decision._

"_Stan…" he looked at me with pleading eyes. "Maybe sometimes things are better left unsaid. Sometimes it's better to keep things covered up, that way nobody gets hurt."_

"_Except for you. And me"_

_He averted his gaze. "Well, I can handle it."_

"_What if I can't? What if I think you can't?"_

_He stood up quickly from the table, earning him a few reproachful stares from unknown customers._

"_I can handle it just fine, Stan! Okay? I don't need my mom's approval of every little thing I do! I can handle it!" His face had gone red with rage. If there was one thing that Kyle hated, it was the feeling of loss of control. He needed to be able to cope with everything thrown at him._

"_Then why are you so afraid of telling her if you don't need her approval?"_

_Kyle sat back down slowly, lips pinched tightly together._

"_Because… because I can't control how she's going to react to… to the news," he said finally._

_We sat in uneasy silence, occasionally taking sips of coffee. Eventually I broke the silence._

"_Kyle, do you hate being gay? If you could choose, would you be straight?"_

_He gave a small chuckle. "A lot of the time, I do wonder why I have to be… like this. My life would probably have been easier if I was straight, no coming out to friends or family, no possible rejection by friends or family, no worries if it's immoral, against my religion or just plain wrong. But one thing makes me forget all that, the one thing that keeps me sane with all these crazy thoughts."_

_He turned to me, his beautiful, deep, green eyes inviting me in._

"_It's you, Stan. If I wasn't gay, I wouldn't have you as my boyfriend. And you make all the troubles worthwhile."

* * *

_

I awoke from my slumber, and immediately felt Kyle's body in my arms. I smiled as the last line from my dream re-echoed around my head. I don't think there was a time in history in which anybody had made me feel so special. It honestly just meant everything to me when he said that. No wonder I kept dreaming of it.

I was reluctant to wake Kyle up. After all, he was incredibly gorgeous when he slept, drooling and all. But looking at my beside table, my ancient John Elway clock was informing me it was nine in the morning, and on Saturday mornings my mom made pancakes.

"Kyle!" I whispered loudly as I shook him. "Kyle! Wake up!"

"Whaaa-huh?" Kyle's head shot up groggily.

"Come on! Pancakes!" I bounded out of bed and proceeded to hurl on some clean boxers. Kyle merely groaned and threw the duvet over his head.

"Why the hell are you always so energetic in the morning, Stan? It's unhealthy," came a muffled moan from the lump on my bed.

"Come on, Kyle! I know you love them just as much as me!"

The blanketed lump continued to lay there making sounds a lot like Kenny with his old parka on.

"You're just weird, Stan. It should be made illegal to get out of bed before noon at weekends."

I grabbed the end of the duvet and ripped it off him, chuckling as his naked form curled up instinctively at the rush of air.

"Awww, Stan! What did you do that for?"

"Well, if you'd got up when I told you to…"

He sat up, stretching his arms and stifling a yawn. "Fine. I know never to keep you from your pancakes. Sugar Junkie," he added with a grin, knowing exactly what I sprinkle lavishly on my favoured breakfast. "You're lucky you're not diabetic."

"Yeah well, I'll pay for it later. If I keep up my sugar intake, I'm gonna end up like youuuuu!" I said, poking his skinny frame.

He stood up before wrapping me in his unclothed body and placing his lips to mine.

"Well, there's no one I'd rather share my insulin with."

* * *

We bounded down the stairs, thankfully both fully-clothed at this point. My nose had not failed me; a solid form of eggs, milk and flour were set out on the table waiting for us. God, I loved my mother.

"Good morning, Stanley," she said, handing me a plate and the sugar bowl. "And you too, Kyle," also placing a plate in his hands. She tutted as I tipped about a quarter of the sugar from the bowl onto my pancake, but said nothing. By now she was obviously used to my sweet tooth, and just accepted it. She was good at stuff like that, like accepting both me and Kyle. I honestly don't know how she managed to take it so well, but she's always managed to just understand that certain things are just the way they are. Although, without having that kind of look on life, I doubt she'd have managed to stand my father for so long.

The father in question was squirming in his chair, definitely still not completely comfortable with Kyle's presence. He had always been okay with Kyle coming or staying over, but after our coming out, he viewed Kyle in a different light. He would never say anything; my mom would kill him if he said a bad word against me or Kyle, but his homophobia was still apparent. He had once had a slight curiosity of homosexuality, supposedly a one night thing with Gerald. It was ironic, really. But on that one night he had felt his masculinity threatened, and it scared him.

* * *

"_Pass us a beer woudja, Stan?"_

_We were sitting watching a football game, a little bit of "father/son bonding", about the only kind of bonding that my father could be bothered to do. And I could only be thankful that he was still willing to do this kind of stuff with me after coming out to him; he hadn't acted the same around me since. Still, at least he hadn't gone batshit crazy and ordered me out the house after finding out I was gay. _

_I raised myself slightly off the couch, leaning towards the side table laden with cans of my father's favourite beer, and taking one each for me and him. He swallowed it quickly, exhaling with a belch of pleasure._

"_It's funny really, isn't it, Stan? That you still like football"_

_Aw, crap; he was going off on one again. He'd been doing this off and on ever since he had found out. It was almost patronizing. It was almost as if he considered that gays couldn't be masculine._

"_I mean, before… well… Well, let's just say, I'd thought that with all your… interests, that you couldn't be…"_

"_Dad, just drop it."_

_Of course he wouldn't though._

"_Look, Stan, all I'm saying is that you always seem so… interested in guy stuff. Not gay stuff, y'know what I mean?"_

_I sighed, we had gone through this at every moment alone together. Why oh why did he insist on being so… weird about it? Why couldn't he just be pleased for me like mom or Kyle's parents? I bet Kyle didn't have to go through this every second at home._

"_You've changed, Stan. I dunno, you just don't seem… gay… but you are."_

"_I'm going out now, Dad." I was sick of him now and proceeded to grab my jacket._

"_Where?" He asked suspiciously. "Kyle's?"_

_Yes, Dad, I'm going somewhere where homophobia won't be shoved down my throat every five seconds. He sussed it out even without an answer._

"_I wish you wouldn't, Stan."_

_He thought he was saying it for the good of me, to stop me living out my queer life. But I didn't care what he thought; all I cared and still care about is Kyle. And I would gladly turn my back on my bigoted father for him.

* * *

_

"Jesus, dude, your mom makes some mean pancakes!"

I smiled at my red-headed boyfriend as he picked up his dirty clothes from my bedroom floor. Playfully, I gingerly slipped my thumb through the waistband of his boxers, whirling them round my head. He laughed as he tried to snatch them off me, but I hurriedly jumped on the bed, the underwear still firmly in my grasp. Of course, Kyle took that opportunity to tackle me, and we both collapsed onto the mattress in a fit of laughter.

"Ohhhh God, Kyle, I love you, you know that?"

"And I adore yooooouu, Stanny!" His head dipped down to give me a kiss, until his eyes spotted something lying on the floor.

"Hey… isn't this Kenny's?" he asked, brandishing the wristband he had retrieved from my floor.

"Yeah, yeah it is," I replied, remembering well what had happened last night. Kenny had slipped it on Kyle's wrist during tipsy banter between the two of them and then fell on the floor as Kyle had undressed for a bit of "him and me time". In a sudden moment, the love I had felt for Kyle a minute ago had dissolved into foul jealousy.

"Heh…Hey, Stan? What say we go over to Kenny's later?"

My eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Well, we should return it to him."

I snorted derisively. "He can hardly be missing it too bad if he gave it to you."

He shrugged back slightly, probably thinking up a retort. "Well, it is his…"

I shoved him off quickly, annoyed that he'd prefer to go to Kenny's than stay with me alone.

"Why are you so anxious to go to Kenny's, Kyle? Just give it him back on Monday."

He shrugged again. "Yeah, well… it gives us a good reason to hang out with him."

I whirled around furiously. "No, it gives YOU a good reason to hang out with him, doesn't it Kyle?"

He took a step back, a slightly frightened look in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? What do I fucking mean?" He either was lying or incredibly in the dark about his own actions. "I've seen how you act with him, all the laughing, all the touching! You make it pretty damn obvious you prefer to be around Kenny than you do with me!"

His shoulders drooped, but he remained silent, his green eyes reflecting my red face.

"Well? Am I right?" I can't stand being ignored.

"Stan…" he started.

"NO! Don't fucking Stan me! 'Kay? Just answer; do you like Kenny, yes or no?"

His eyes still remained calm even in the face of my rage. "Define 'like'."

I honestly felt like slapping him round the head at this point. Dammit, couldn't he just give a straight answer.

"Love, got the hots for, crush on… y'know, Kyle! Now for fuck's sake, answer the question!"

He was silent for a long time. You could probably have cut the tension with a knife. He was only prolonging the inevitable answer, probably still trying to find a way to lie to me. Until finally…

"Yes."

My breathing seemed to infiltrate every corner of the room. It was one thing to suspect something, even if it is completely obvious, but to hear it from his own mouth…

"Get out, Kyle."

"Stan, please…"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I couldn't look at him anymore; just that simple "yes" had sparked a series of probable scenarios in my head. Kyle and Kenny, Kyle and Kenny, Kyle and fucking Kenny…

"Stan, listen…" he rushed his words out quickly, hurriedly trying to get his feeble point across. "Yes, I like Kenny, but honestly, that's all it is… really. I love you, Stan, I always have, but Kenny… he's just a crush, Stan, it's nothing, just a stupid infatuation…"

I couldn't believe him, no matter how much he babbled. "All those times you went to see Kenny, or invited Kenny to your place… you've probably fucked him right under my nose."

Now it was Kyle's turn to get angry.

"You honestly believe that? After everything I went through to be with you? I can't believe you, Stan! I love you like nobody else, do you really think I'd throw that away for some crush?"

No matter what he said, or how convincingly he said it, the jealousy still pumped through my veins, controlling my every word and move.

"Just get out, Kyle. I don't want to hear another word from you. I don't care what you have to say anymore." Then I went from angry to spiteful. "You're not Kyle, not the Kyle I fell in love with. You've changed." It was remarkable how much I sounded like my father.

I could see him biting back his tongue, forcing himself not to reply.

"Pick up your things and fuck off. And take this with you!" I threw Kenny's wristband forcefully at him. "Go to fucking Kenny's house, he'll give you a fucking shoulder to cry on!"

He quickly gathered up his scattered clothing, shoving them roughly into his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. As he was about to open the door he looked back again, his tearful eyes boring into mine.

"Stan…. Please…?"

I still wouldn't allow him to break me, to allow him to fool me anymore.

"I said get out."

I could almost hear the sorrow in his steps as he stomped down to the front door, and as he gave my mother a quiet farewell. As the door shut, I heard more steps, quicker and coming up this time. Two pairs of feet, too.

"Stanley?"

I looked up to see my concerned parents in the doorway. My mother with a hint of worry, my father tutting.

"It's nothing, mom," I lied. Still, my lies couldn't hide the tears on my face, which she picked up on. She walked across, giving me a warm, motherly hug. I heard a mutter from my father, which included the words "gay tiff".

"Say that again," I growled darkly.

"I'm just saying, Stan…"

I let go of Mom, striding towards the man I called Dad. I was about the same size as him, intimidating him easily.

"Say one more thing about gays, Dad, and I swear to God…"

"Don't talk to me like that, Stanley! I am your father!"

"I don't care, Dad! I'm fed up of you and your fucking homophobia! This has got nothing to do with being gay!"

I stormed out; out of the room, out of the house, desperately trying to calm down. It was as if everyone was determined to anger me.

I pressed the heels of my hands forcedly into my eye sockets. Was this punishment? What it because God really did hate gays and was trying to punish me for it? Why, Kyle… Why couldn't you just love me…? What does Kenny have that I can't give you…?

It was with some sick satisfaction that I came home to find a bruise on my father's face the exact shape and size as my mom's hand.

* * *

**Official longest chapter ever written by me :D**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Gari**


	4. The Denunciation

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 4: The Denunciation

* * *

**

"_Done to death by slanderous tongues."_

_-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing.

* * *

_

"_Staaaaan?"_

_I groaned. It had been exactly one week since I'd last heard my name said like that; like stretched out, purring high-pitchedly. And there was only one person on the planet who could incorporate all three into one syllable._

"_Hey, Wendy."_

_It was amazing really; I knew in my heart I was gay, I knew I adored Kyle with every fibre of my being, but I just wasn't man enough to tell her just yet. And every Friday after classes she would sneak up on me, trying to get me to go out with her again. It may have been annoying, but I couldn't hate her for it; as far as she knew, I was available. She gazed upon me with her ocean-like blue eyes, and even through all the gayness I knew I possessed, I still felt a flutter in my stomach. Was it denial? Was I forcing myself to feel maybe even slightly attracted to Wendy because I was too much of a pussy to just stand up and say "I'm gay"? Probably. It's more likely than that bullcrap that Father Maxi spouts about "homosexuality is a choice". If I could choose I would make life easier for myself and just stick only with girls, just stick with what's done in society._

"_So, Stan, what you doing tonight?" she asked, batting her eyelashes slightly. But I wasn't focusing on her sensual wiles; a certain, red-haired Jew was standing a few feet behind her, pretending to gag._

_I stifled a laugh, trying not to focus on Kyle's buffoonery. But Wendy interpreted it as mocking her idea. She lowered her eyes to the floor, a little embarrassed at my supposed "reaction"._

"_Oh… well… I just thought…"_

_I shook my head._

"_Look, Wendy… it's a nice offer and all… but…" Now how to finish that sentence. "… I'm busy tonight. Ok?" Thank god it was the end of the day, at least then I could think up some kind of excuse to get me out of that situation as quickly as possible. "Wends, I have to go now… dentist appointment… then going out, 'kay? See you round maybe…"_

_She seemed satisfied with my answer and gave me a smile coupled with a seductive look in her eye before bounding off to Bebe and the rest of her entourage. A snickering Kyle joined me at my side._

"_Dentist appointment, eh?_

"_Three guesses at what she wanted," I muttered sarcastically. Kyle patted me on the back._

"_Cheer up, Stan, come on… It's Friday, dammit!" Even when his enthusiasm about the end of the week didn't wipe the frown off my face he whispered quickly in my ear: "My parents are out tonight…"_

_Of course, how could I not be happy about that? I beamed at him to show him my appreciation, only revealing to him a certain something niggling at the back of my mind when we were safely out of sight from the school gates and heading down a deserted alley._

"_Kyle? Why do we have to sneak around like this?"_

_He didn't answer, his bright green eyes focused on the path ahead. I sighed before elaborating, in case he didn't get the message._

"_Trust me, Kyle, I love nights with you, dude… but I just wish we didn't have to do it behind our parents' backs…"_

"_Like you do with Wendy?" He snapped suddenly. I noticed the arm that had previously grasped my shoulders was now hanging at Kyle's side._

"_What?"_

"_Oh, Wendy, I'm busy tonight!" he mimicked. "Oh, Wendy, I have a dentist appointment!" He turned quickly to me. "Don't accuse me of 'sneaking around' when you haven't been able to tell your ex about it!"_

_Funnily enough, I wasn't perturbed by what Kyle said. Partly because his sudden rage was normal, but also because I knew that what he was saying was true. I hung my head._

"_Do you love her?" he asked suddenly._

_At the speed my head shot up, I was surprised I didn't give myself whiplash. "Dude! Fuck… I mean… shit, dude…"_

_He shrugged quickly. "Look, I've just been thinking… do you not want to just say 'Back off, bitch, I'm gay' because… you still like her?"_

_My hand crept to the side of his face. "Kyle? I don't like sneaking around anymore than you do. If I had my way, I'd open every closet door… maybe slowly where it concerned our parents…" I had Sheila Broflovski in mind, "…or certain schoolmates…" a.k.a. Cartman "… but maybe it's not right for everyone to know right now…"_

"_Then can't you tell her you're at least not interested?"_

_He had got me there._

"_Well…"_

_He gave a triumphant smile and threw his hands into the air. "I knew it!" Still grinning he turned his head to me._

"_You're not the moody, angry, 'back off, bitch' Kyle you were a second ago," I muttered, hands shoved deep into my pockets._

"_Hormones, dude, blame them!" he shrugged, "Still, if you liked her, you could have just told me."_

"_What? And have you mad at me? Look, I can't love you and still have feelings for Wendy."_

_He shrugged again. I swear it was becoming a nervous habit of his._

"_Maybe… maybe, you're bi. You're gonna be attracted to other people… but…" He slipped an arm around my waist at that point, "… as long as you love me, then a crush is a crush."_

_I had to stare at him at this point. "Dude, how can you be so cool about this? I mean… you're Kyle Broflovski! I swear everyone knows you purely because of your anger."_

"_And? I can be mellow at times you know."_

"_And what joyous times they are!"_

_He shook his head despairingly. "Stan, what I'm trying to say is… I don't care if you still have feelings for Wendy, because as long as you say you love me… I believe you."_

"_And I do, Kyle, I love you so much…" I meant it as well. After all, it wasn't often you found someone who wasn't the jealous type, someone who could brush off "a little crush" as easily as that. I don't know why I had to be so picky about sneaking around, why should it matter as long as it was with Kyle?_

_Our return to our version of normality had brought a twinkle back to his eyes as we turned the bend into Bonanza Street, the main street of South Park. We desisted from clutching to each other at this point, after all, neither of us had yet let "our little secret" slip yet. And probably wouldn't until we felt the time was right… although concerning some people, it seemed like the time would never be right.

* * *

_

"_Stan!"_

_Wendy stood before me, rage in human form. All I had going through my mind was a repeated mantra of "Oh, shit!" Who could blame me? This was the girl who had shot someone into the sun at the tender age of eight. I braced myself for whatever onslaught she was going to come at me with._

"_Stan! Please! Is it true?"_

_You can probably guess what she was asking about. And as if the situation wasn't scary enough, she grabbed my shoulders, before forcefully pinning me to the lockers. I could only thank god that the corridor was currently deserted. Getting your ass kicked by a girl usually called for an even more serious ass-kicking by the rest of the male student body._

_I felt a slap across my face, and with tears brimming in her eyes she shook me once more._

"_Stan… I'm begging you… please… tell me you're not gay…"_

_What could I say? I had to tell her the truth. We had come clean to our parents, so it wasn't as if we had that to worry about, and various close friends had been notified, so her spreading it around the school wouldn't make too much of a difference, and that's even if she was enough of a bitch to do so. Like I said, she had been exceptionally crazy at a time in her life, but she had mellowed as time went on._

"_I am, Wendy. I'm sorry, but I am. With Kyle."_

_I half expected another slap for my blunt response, but she let go and slumped against the lockers beside me._

"_Why, Stan?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Why Kyle and not me?"_

_I was struggling to answer; after all, how can a person fully explain why they are gay? "Because I love Kyle, that's it."_

"_But don't you… like me at all?"_

_She had to ask it, didn't she? "I do, Wends… but I… just love Kyle."_

"_So you choose Kyle over me?"_

_Was she going to lay off the questions? "I didn't choose to be attracted to Kyle more than you, okay? Trust me, going out with you would have saved me a load of inner turmoil, but… me and Kyle, it just seemed… so right."_

_The tears were still in her eyes, but she wiped them away hurriedly. "You should have told me," she muttered. "At least then I wouldn't have thought…"_

"_I know, Wends… I'm… I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be."

* * *

_

"_Stan, I'm so sorry."_

_In a fit of fury, I had stormed out of my house, away from my father, away from Kyle, into the warm home of someone who I knew would give me her sympathy._

_Wendy Testaburger set down a steaming mug of coffee down on the table, and patted my back reassuringly. It was weird being back at her house, I hadn't been in years. But it was the only safe place I felt I could go. I picked up the coffee, blowing on it slightly, before drinking deeply. As it left my lips, I couldn't help but smile._

"_Brandy?"_

"_Sssh," she whispered, also grinning. "I find it always helps."_

_I set down the cup, my previously cold body warming from the heat of the room and the brandy. As cosy as it all was, it still didn't distract me from my current situation._

"_Kyle," I whimpered, my face falling into my hands. Wendy again trying to soothe me with persistent back-rubs._

"_You really loved him didn't you?" she said._

_I shook my head; she had got the tense mixed up. "I still do, that's why it hurts so much." I threw my palms to my knees. "Dammit! What does Kenny have that I don't? Why can't Kyle just love me, like he always said he did?"_

_Wendy sighed and let her hand fall to her side. "You know, I asked myself the same thing. When the rumours started… about you and Kyle… I couldn't believe it. But I saw you… and you just worked. And I did wonder, for a long time, 'Why couldn't that be me?'" Her gaze fell to her knees. "I don't know…"_

"_I mean… he did say he still loved me…"_

"_Well, then, I don't see why…"_

"_But that's not the point! If he loves me, he should love only me!"_

_Wendy rolled her eyes. "Stan, stop being such a drama queen! If Kyle said he loves you, and wants you more than Kenny, shouldn't that be…?"_

_Now I was beginning to realise why I fell out of love with her in the first place. "Dammit, Wendy, open your eyes! People lie! People lie all the time just so they can get you to do what they want, or seem like something they're not just for sex, or just to use you!"_

"_Stan…"_

"_That's all Kyle wants… all he wanted was me until he could lay his hands on Kenny once and for all, or he's just using this 'I still love you' farce because he just wants me in his bed."_

"_Stan, this isn't Kyle! You're blowing this out of proportion! Kyle wouldn't do this…"_

_I'd had enough of her at this point. So much for sympathy. Who did she think she was? Did she think she knew Kyle better than me? Everyone lies. Fact. I couldn't trust anyone. Especially Kyle._

"… _please calm down, you're just angry…"_

_I got up, blood pumping in my ears. Nobody was going to help me. Not my father. Not my ex-girlfriend. Everyone had turned their backs. I walked out; away from Wendy with her sorrowful expression and brandy; past the confused faces of Mr and Mrs Testaburger; back to the home where even my own father considered me an abomination._

_This was my punishment for trusting so closely in another human being.

* * *

_

I looked down at my meagre lunch. Damn, school food standards had plummeted at elementary when Chef was lost. Here at High School, it was even worse. My own complaints were voiced by a familiar voice to the side of me.

"Dude, this looks… and tastes like crap."

Still, it didn't stop Cartman from eating it… and then asking for my portion, which I gratefully shoved over to his side of the table. It wasn't often that I sat next to Cartman for lunch. Naturally, in the past I had sat with a certain Jew, but due to our argument… well… let's just say me and Cartman had for the time being "set aside our previous differences". It was almost him and me versus Kenny and Kyle, who were the opposite side of the room. Kyle's face was a shade of grey, and I was sure I could spot a comforting arm from Kenny around his shoulders. Just the sight of it made my hands clench into fists.

"Jesus, dude, you shoot anymore daggers, and it won't be safe to walk across the canteen anymore."

I ignored his comment, as I had so many times before when it came to his smartass remarks. It was about the only way me and him had co-existed as kids. For some reason now, we had come together again, fuelled only by our current mutual hatred of Kyle.

Cartman gazed over to where my eyes were pointing, and sniggered loudly. "Dude, that is so gay!" I didn't even have the heart to rebuke him. "Dude, seriously, are you just gonna let Kenny slobber all over your bitch like that?" He turned back to his food with a smirk. "Of course not, you pussy. I bet you wouldn't even get rattled if I told you what happened between them last night…"

Of course, he was wrong. "What?!?"

I saw the piggy gleam in his eyes, before his smirk widened even further. I guessed it was just his joy at a juicy piece of gossip. "Oh nothing," he said casually, like someone who had something to say but was just prolonging the moment until they said it.

My nails dug into the cheap wood of the canteen tables. "Dammit, Cartman! Spill!"

He picked his teeth with his nails, acting as if it was the weather he was commenting on. "Well, Tweak told me that Kevin told him that Clyde mentioned to him that Craig let it slip that Kenny confided in him that…" his face displayed pure pleasure as he uttered the last sentence "well, let's just say that… Kenny cheered Kyle RIGHT up last night."

Grinding my teeth, fuelled only by pure anger I stormed across the canteen floor. Kyle's wide eyes almost had a sense of hope that I had come in reconciliation for last night. How wrong he was.

I pointed a finger at his fear-stricken face. The whole room was silent. I didn't care if anyone heard this or not.

"You complete whore." My finger then wavered to Kenny. "You complete slut."

I could hear laughing from the other side of the hall. I couldn't let it put me off.

"Why, Kyle? Why'd you do it?"

You could have heard a pin drop; even the kitchen faculty were listening in. "Now hold on there, Stan…" came the voice of Kenny. I silenced him with a fierce glare.

"Stay the fuck out of this!" My attention went back to Kyle. "Answer me, dammit!"

He refused to make eye contact with me, but he was aware that everyone's gaze was upon him at the moment; he had to say something. "I don't know what you're talking about, Stan."

"Stan, come on…"

"I thought I told you to stay out of it!" Kenny narrowed his eyes, but backed down reluctantly. I may have been a complete pussy at times in my life, but it didn't mean I couldn't be intimidating.

"Now, for the last time, Kyle, tell me why. Was it to spite me? To screw me over? Although, you were probably to busy screwing Kenny over to even think about…"

That incited an answer from Kyle. And Kenny too. They both stood up simultaneously, with expressions similar to my own.

"What the fuck, Stan? What the hell?"

"You know what I mean, Kyle! You couldn't get your sex from me last night so you got it from Kenny!"

Kyle grabbed the locks of his hair, yanking furiously. "Jesus, Stan… You really think that? You really think that I'd…" He shook his head. "Dammit, Stan, I told you last night how I felt, and I stick by it." He took me by the hand, which I quickly and callously jerked away. "Look, you need to believe me, please. I'd never… I'd never…"

I should have there and then, and I wish I had. But I was hard-hearted, still smarting from the blow he had delivered last night, and I could believe anything against Kyle at this point in time, even from someone as untrustworthy as Cartman.

"Fuck you," I spat.

"Stan…"

"Are you deaf? Fuck you!"

I turned, feeling the stares of everyone boring into my back. I didn't expect the conversation (if you could call it that) to carry on. But a certain conniving fatass had other plans.

"So Stan, you've made unfounded accusations against Kahl here, but what about your own sordid affair?"

I could sense the grin across his flabby face as he said that. I felt someone slap my shoulders before spinning me face to face with the person I had previously labelled as a whore.

"You fucking hypocrite!"

He swivelled his head to Cartman, determined to squeeze out any more gory details. Which of course, Cartman was all too willing to share, with the same casualness that he had delivered Kyle's "own sordid affair".

"Oh yes, Kahl. Pussy Stan here only fucked off up to Wendy's after your falling out." He wagged his finger, speaking as if he were telling off a toddler. "Tut, tut, Kahl, I'd keep a closer watch on your boyfriend, if I were you. God forbid," he added cruelly.

I was speechless at this point, unable to deny what Cartman had said, ashamed that I had listened to him in the first place. Unfortunately there was no time to properly think these things through, as Kyle was shaking me determinedly.

"You fucking, hypocritical…" at that point he stopped shaking and dropped me to the floor. "Deny it," he ordered.

"What?"

"Deny it, Stan. If it isn't true."

"Kyle, please. I'm sorr…"

"Just answer."

The roles had reversed. I was helpless; denying would make me look like a liar, all Kyle had to do would be to seek out Wendy; but the alternative meant I was suspect of hypocrisy. I had to get through to him, somehow.

"Kyle, I did go to Wendy's, but I swear…"

"That's all I needed to know," he said coldly, before grabbing Kenny's arm and steering him out of the lunch hall. I should have followed him, but my legs refused to move, even after the hoi polloi of the lunch hall was restored. I had lost him. Through my paranoia, I had lost the best thing that had happened to me.

I heard a laugh that pierced through me worse than Kyle's parting words.

"Seriously, that was the funniest thing I had ever seen."

I should have never listened to him to start with. He always had a determination to destroy anything good that either me or Kyle had; Kyle especially. Why had I lain my trust in someone who I'd had enough warnings from over the years that he was nothing more than a cruel, cunning bastard?

I heard my own words in my head, from the night before _"People lie! People lie all the time…!" _But I was just too short-sighted to apply it to anyone but Kyle.

This was my punishment for trusting so closely in another… no… Cartman was no human being. A human being needs human emotion.

My legs responded to the fatass's cackling, bringing my body close to him, and my fist even closer. Even revenge didn't bring me much satisfaction. I had failed. Even my previous vow to never trust anyone had backfired. In my determination to distrust Kyle, I had trusted Cartman over him.

Sigh no more, Stan. Sigh no more.

Men were deceivers ever.

* * *

**I am sorry. I am so sorry. Hopefully it will get better from here.**

**And may I apologise profusely for the amount of time it's taken to write the damn thing. Bad Gari, very bad Gari. I'll try to be quicker in future.**

**But anyway, thank you for reading!**

**Gari**


	5. The Regret

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 5: The Regret

* * *

**

_"He hath indeed better bettered expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how."  
_

_- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing.

* * *

_

_Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

With every second that passed I felt the word swim around my head, accompanied with Kyle's final words…

"_That's all I needed to know…"_

I couldn't help but wish that he'd have listened to my words, listened to my apologies, my regret at such obsessive paranoia...

_Like you listened to him?_

It could only be karma; when you act a certain way, it will always come back to you. _Id quot circumiret, circumveniat_. What goes around, comes around. Why didn't I just listen to him? Why didn't I just…

_No, there could be a hundred different "whys" here. _

_Kyle's gone. Fact. _

_Left me. Fact_.

And if he wasn't doing Kenny before then he probably would have been then. I knew I had wallowed in my pity, but at the end of the day it was my fault.

_All your fault, Stan._

I felt like my entire world had crashed around me; as if nothing could be right again. His eyes… that had usually gazed upon me with such love and understanding… well, whatever spark was there was gone. There was no way he was going to forgive me after that…

Somehow… I could forgive him for his outburst. I don't know whether it's the Christian in me or whether I'm just a naturally forgiving person, but I couldn't seem to hate him for publicly humiliating me like that…

_Maybe because you tried to do it first…_

I had never believed too much in karma before then, but it began to make an incredible amount of sense.

* * *

Everyone stared. That was the first thing I noticed as I walked through the doors at school. As I walked past, faces turned, viewing me with almost contempt, muttering darkly under their breath. I couldn't help but feel like I deserved every word said about me; I couldn't help but feel that I deserved a whole lot worse.

Suddenly, a small but firm hand grabbed me by the shoulder, pulling me to one side, in one of the various alcoves in our corridors.

I felt a slap and found myself face to face with Wendy, who had murder in her eyes.

"Stay away from me from now on," she hissed, before quickly walking past along the rest of the corridor and turning the corner to home room. I was shocked by her behaviour, wondering exactly what had incited it.

It was only as I reached the lockers, that I spotted exactly what had enraged her. I literally felt my heart sink at the sight of it. Scrawled across the entire surface of Wendy's locker, in bold, black spray paint, was a single word;

WHORE.

The letters scorched into my brain; I felt numb and yet deep-rooted anger threatened to burst from me. I was tempted, sorely tempted, to blame it on Kyle; at least then I could probably hate him; make this all so much easier. I could go blue in the face defending Wendy, claiming that Kyle was no more than what he had written. I would be able to see him as less of someone I love and more of a jealous slut.

_Jealousy…_

I shook the word out of my head and focused on the writing, determined to kid myself into believing it was Kyle's perfectly formed script, but no matter how much I squinted, it couldn't hide the true culprit from surfacing.

Kenny.

* * *

"_Stan?"_

_I whipped around, and grinned at the parka-clad Kenny, who was defacing yet another perfectly good wall with his oh-so-childish tag. I nodded to his sprayed on "Kenny", noticing (but not having the heart to mention to him) that he had written both of his "n"s backwards. It was one of the rare times that it was just me and him, where Kyle was busy celebrating one of his Jewish holidays and Cartman was probably kicking Butters around. I was reluctant to spoil this _

"_Dude, you keep this up and Barbrady'll have your head."_

_He gave a small inclination before resuming his spraying. "Yeah, well when Barbrady starts doing a decent job, then I'll start worrying."_

"_Touché."_

"_Stan?"_

"_Yeah?"_

_He paused slightly, before making eye contact. "Stan… we're good friends, right?"_

_I could understand why he was being tentative about the question. We were good friends, great friends. Truthfully not as close as me and Kyle, but we were still friends. You don't normally go against the wrath of Mel Gibson with somebody who is not a friend._

"_Sure, dude."_

"_Stan… I need…" He appeared to shake slightly; I could hear the rattle of the spray can in his clammy grip. "Stan… I'm… I need… I need to tell someone… anyone."_

_I could sense immediately something was wrong. Kenny was normally a calm guy, and here he was acting a lot like an agitated Kyle._

"_Kenny?"_

"_Stan, I think… I think I like…" He gulped loudly. "Stan… I think I might be… bi."_

_I blinked rapidly, taking a metaphorical step back. "Woah, dude!" Although I could hardly be judgemental, especially with my own doubts about my heterosexuality at that time. "Are you… I mean… well…"_

"_Look, Stan… I'm sorry, I just…"_

"_Kenny, look… don't apologise."_

"_I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I just…"_

"_Damn, Ken! Will you shut up?"_

_He quit his constant apologies, breathing heavily. Without even raising his head he slumped against the defaced wall, before cradling his knees close to his chest. I sat gingerly beside him and placed one hand upon his shoulder._

"_Kenny, seriously, I'm… well, honoured that you told me. I mean… it's not something you tell to some guy who means nothing to you, right? Y'know, you must think of me pretty highly to tell me." I decided it was time to get back to the point, and do what I did best; bring this whole crazy town back to normality, or as normal as South Park could be. "Kenny, I don't care who you screw, okay, just don't let being gay make some sort of emo pussy outta the _great_ guy that I know."_

_He smiled at this, before adding; "Just one thing, Stan. I'm bi, not gay."_

"_We never were able to keep you out of girls' pants, McKormick. Now… I can still see some wall showing…"_

_Looking like himself again, Kenny shook the rest of the spray can vigorously before adding the finishing touches to his "masterpiece".

* * *

_

"OI! McKormick!"

Kenny looked over his shoulder, his cool blue eyes boring into mine with contempt. I could even see black paint still dousing his fingers. Asshole.

"Well, fuck me! What have we here?" he muttered.

"Don't fuck with me, Kenny!" I shoved him against the lockers slightly, pinning him by his filthy parka. Jesus Christ, you'd have thought the kid would at least buy a new shirt or something after all these years. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you fucking do that to Wendy?"

Even though I had him in a strong grip, his eyes still showed no fear in them, still only a sneering gaze. By this point a small group had mulled around the area, determined to catch a glimpse of the school's latest source of gossip.

Kenny, of course, could never resist a crowd. "Why, Marsh? Why? Because she messed Kyle up really bad that's why. Because he felt so damn guilty that he'd even given you any signal that he was cheating on you, that when he found out you'd even gone and seen that bitch, he didn't know what to think!" He barked the last sentence and prised my hands from his shoulders. "Now leave me the fuck alone!"

He picked up his bookbag forcefully, before strolling down the rest of the corridor. The crowd dispersed; evidently disappointed that it didn't last as long as they had hoped. I took advantage of it, quickly coming up behind him and tackling him slightly through the fire escape, out of the building and free from the watchful eyes of students and faculty.

"Ken, what the hell? She messed up Kyle?"

Kenny lightly brushed my hand away that still grasped the scruff of his parka, blatantly annoyed that I had forced him into this conversation.

"Stan, I know me and you have never really seen eye to eye about certain things…"

I sighed, knowing he had made one hell of an understatement. Kenny noticed this and shook his head.

"We used to be good friends, Stan, really good friends…"

"Look, I didn't come here to reminisce," I said firmly, raising my hand slightly to get the point across. "Why'd you do it, Kenny? Wendy got enough battering from the slanging match yesterday, and now you decide she deserves worse?"

"You didn't see Kyle after school yesterday, did you?"

"I didn't come here to talk about Kyle…"

"You need to, Stan! You've just got this view of Kyle that he's some kind of… of…"

"Slut?"

Kenny's previous jerky motions were replaced by a sudden slump of the neck and shoulders. "So that's what you think?"

I couldn't take his accusing tone. "What was I supposed to think? 'Hey Stan, let's go see Kenny!' 'Hey Stan, let's invite Kenny over!' 'Hey Stan, do you mind if I feel up Kenny while you're in the same room?'" My voice became angrier as I went on. I was in the right here. Any pity for Kyle, any regrets at my own actions swam away. I had been there, every time Kyle went over to Kenny instead of me, every look, giggle, note, touch…

"Kyle loves you, asshole!" He screeched suddenly. I could see his pale hands clenched into fists. Then he lowered his voice slightly "And I wish he didn't. I wish every single day that it was me, not you."

"You…. What?"

"He dragged me out of that lunch hall yesterday and do you know what he said?" I could see tears beginning to fall from Kenny's eyes. "He said 'What have I done?' He said it so many damn times, Stan. Knowing that you had gone…. To Wendy of all people… he blames himself. Stan, he couldn't stop crying for the longest time.

"We never did anything, Stan. No tongues, no buttsex, not even a fucking kiss on the cheek. And he still felt terrible. He…" Kenny choked slightly at this point. "He… asked me to leave him alone, he asked me to 'stay the hell away'."

I was suddenly reminded of Wendy: _"Stay away from me from now on."_

"So you took revenge on Wendy, because Kyle asked you to stay away?"

"Yes," he growled. "I love Kyle, I love him so damn much. First you take him away from me, then this bitch does. I've never had anything I wanted, Stan. Unlike you, with a fucking silver spoon in every fucking orifice. I wanted Kyle, and d'you know what? We probably wouldn't even be in this situation if I hadn't made a move on him." Kenny let out a slight chuckle. "Turns out he wanted a bit of harmless fun back. Note I said harmless fun. The bastard wouldn't want to upset his Stanny-Poo…"

He turned dangerously and pushed me to the ground with force that seemed strange compared to his skinny size. "But Stanny-Poo did get upset, because he's always had everything done for him, that at the first sign of competition, he rears his star quarterback head and bulldozes anybody in his way!

"Kyle loves you so much, Stan. Yes, maybe he made mistakes. Maybe he shouldn't have paid ANY attention to me! But I felt wanted, Stan. Kyle made me feel special. But he would never ever cheat on you. He thinks he's lost you, and even though he thinks that he still wants nothing to do with me. Because, in the end, he wants you or nothing. I mean nothing to him, Stan. I'm just a little crush, just a little fun. It's you he wants… not me. And this is my repayment to him… for every time he chose to spend time with me, instead of you."

I picked myself slowly off the hard snowy ground, brushing off excess flakes. "Kyle was right about one thing, Kenny," I said between sweeps of my hand. "I want you to stay away, from both me and Kyle, y'hear?"

He bowed sarcastically. "As you wish, your lordship," before turning sharply on his heel and lighting up one of his cheap cigarettes.

* * *

**Shalom!**

**Gari again, with another chapter! Hoorah! Sorry it's not as long as usual though...**

**Thank you for reading!**


	6. The Reconciliation

Much Ado About Kyle

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 6: The Reconciliation**

* * *

"_I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion."_

_-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing._

* * *

Kyle had never lost his talent at basketball. He had always been the best in our elementary class, able to get the ball neatly through the hoop even at half-court. Of course at eight years old he hadn't quite been tall enough to dunk, but now, well… it was safe to say that his skills had surmounted tenfold, if not more.

But if he was the best in our school at eight, and had only improved, then why was he missing? Why could he not score?

I watched from across the street, hiding slightly behind my curtains. I was tempted to just walk out through my door, just walk out and engage in conversation. But I was mesmerised. It seemed like only yesterday that Kyle was pleading with his mother to install the basketball hoop above the garage, barely able to get the ball anywhere near it after his father had nailed it up. It was almost as if he had reverted back to his novice self, grunting angrily as the ball bounced back off the edges of the hoop, or sailed to the side off the backboard. I could guess exactly the reason why he seemed intent on destroying the hoop that he had spent half a year begging for.

* * *

"_God-fucking-dammit!"_

_BANG!_

_Kyle caught the ball as it hurtled back to him, threatening to smash into his face. It didn't of course; someone as controlled as Kyle wouldn't let a ball slip through his grasp. He bounced it quickly a couple of times before sending it towards the hoop another time._

_BANG!_

"_Ugh!" He span the ball quickly in his fingers before flopping haphazardly on the concrete drive next to me. He had been practising non-stop for the past hour or so, and his curly red hair was starting to stick to his forehead. I could also see a harsh redness on his palms, yet Kyle was the sort of person who wouldn't let pain stop him in anything. It was with slight disgust that I viewed the sore redness, and as much as I wanted to rub them soothingly, that would have just been… totally gay. I settled for just leaving him be._

"_Kyle, don't stress over it, dude. It's not worth it."_

"_It's not worth it? Not worth it? Stan, basketball is my life! So don't think of even telling me 'it's not worth it'!"_

_He took another attempt at getting the ball neatly through the hoop, again with little success. He let out another sigh of contempt, burying his face quickly in his hands._

"_Goddamnit, no wonder they don't want me on their team… I'd only suck ass anyway." There was something in his words that just sounded so… dejected. It broke my heart, it really did._

_He'd been like this for the past two days, ever since that asshole coach had blatantly claimed "Jews can't play basketball". Kyle would make himself get up insanely early, determined to prove to himself and anybody else watching that the coach was wrong, that anybody, regardless of physiological make up, could play basketball just as well as anybody else. Unfortunately, his anger would prevent him from doing anything as spectacular as I had witnessed at any other practice, forcing him to concede that maybe the coach was right, and he should just give up. Then the cycle would repeat itself. I wanted to snap some sense into him, but it was these kinds of times he was most incorrigible._

"_Are you okay, dude?"_

"_Funnily enough, Stan, I'm pretty fucking far from okay."_

"_Just checking, dude."_

_He beat his fists to the ground. "Why can't I do it? Why aren't I good enough? I practise just as hard as those other guys, so why can't I play basketball like they do?"_

"_Kyle, just drop it. You were awesome..."_

"_If I was so fucking awesome why didn't I get on the team? If I was so awesome why can't I get the fucking ball in the fucking hoop?" He chucked the ball one last time, failing again, and couldn't even motivate himself to get up and retrieve it, even as it rolled into the middle of the road._

"_What did they have that I didn't?" he whispered to himself, before slowly trudging back into his house. I didn't try to stop him; I just picked up his ball and left it on his porch, before making my own way home, wondering (and despairing) about what sort of mood he would be in tomorrow._

* * *

"_Stan! Stan!"_

_A sudden flurry of orange and green sped into my room and grasped me quickly by the arms, with the first smile on his face that I had seen since the fateful basketball tryouts._

"_Stan, come on! I have it! I know what I need to do! We just…"_

"_Woah, Kyle. Now back up. What are we doing again?"_

_He panted slightly, attempting to get his breath back. Although I wasn't best pleased at Kyle almost killing himself through excessive running and talking, I had to admit, I felt a whole lot better knowing he wasn't torturing himself on the basketball field anymore._

"_Okay… okay… Look, Stan, at the tryouts, what did the other guys have that I didn't?"_

"_Kyle, I hardly see what this has to do with…"_

_He interrupted quickly. "Just answer!"_

_Stan wrinkled his nose slightly as he thought back. "Well… they were all taller than you…"_

"_And…?"_

"_Don't call me racist, but they were all black."_

_Kyle clapped his hands together excitedly. "Got in on your first go! Don't you see, Stan? If I want to play basketball, I just need to be tall and black!"_

"_What!" I yelped._

"_Look, Mr. Garrison got to be a woman, right? And my mom even said that some people don't fit in with the body they have! I can get surgery! I can be the person I always felt I was! I even know where Mr. Garrison got his from!"_

_I suddenly wished he would revert back to moping in front of his house. I wished he was just joking. I wished he would stop grinning as if this stupid idea would solve everything._

"_Kyle? Surgery? Dude, that's…"_

"_That's what, Stan? Weird? Strange?" There was a small amount of hurt in his voice. "Stan, I'm not happy as I am. I need this, Stan. I need your support."_

"_Look, you know I've got your back no matter what, but unnecessary surgery…"_

"_Unnecessary? Stan, this is my life and happiness here!"_

_I clutched the bridge of my nose, a nervous habit of mine._

"_All right… all right… we'll go see this guy… where'd you say it was?"_

"_I didn't," he said slightly breathlessly, "but the place is the Trinidad Medical Center… it's the other side of town." He started tugging on my shirt. "Come on, Stan!"_

_I have to admit, I didn't share his enthusiasm. Namely because with this surgery… well… I knew that he wouldn't be the same. I was happy with how Kyle was. I liked Kyle exactly the way he was._

_Still, it was no time to allow selfish desires to impede his. It was for his happiness, even though the surgery he put himself through was tortuous, even for me, and I didn't have to face a single scalpel._

* * *

"Kyle?"

I had braved the outside of my room, fed up with watching Kyle constantly tossing a ball to the hoop and continuously failing. I had to do something… anything, to clear the air between us. Not a word had passed since the shouting match, although neither of us could be blamed for our silence. Even just walking towards Kyle's at that particular moment felt weird, even though I had made the short journey a million and one times. I felt that I had burned a bridge, and even if it wasn't entirely my fault, I had to take every step necessary to put things right again.

Unfortunately, I had called out his name at precisely the wrong moment; his attention was taken from the ball bouncing back from yet another shot at the hoop, and it careered between fumbling fingers, right onto his exposed nose.

"SHIT!"

He clutched at it, attempting to stem the blood that was already flowing. I ran quickly to his side as he stumbled clumsily on his driveway, and quickly directed him to sit on his porch.

"Dude, are you okay?"

He nodded quickly, not taking his eyes off a spot on the floor.

"Kyle? Kyle, dammit, look at me!" I was slightly pissed off at his obvious determination not to make any contact with me. I gently took his face in my hands, partly to examine the damage, partly just to make any connection between my eyes to his own emerald ones.

It was with some concern I saw tears flow down his cheeks as he pulled himself away.

"Kyle?"

"Stan, please don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Don't… just… please, just leave me alone…"

I grabbed him again, less gently this time. "Kyle! Stop this right now! Okay!" I shushed him quickly before he could demand my departure anymore. "Just let me see…"

Usually, I was terrible when it came to blood. Even then, I felt slightly nauseas. But I was determined not to let my fleeting sickness get in the way of my reconciliation.

"Stan…"

"Don't talk."

"Stan, please… just… what do you want?"

I let go of his chin, letting my arms fall to my sides. I couldn't carry on the pretence anymore. All I had to do was speak, and yet it seemed like the hardest thing in the world. I mean, how do you act after accusing your boyfriend of sleeping with another guy in front of the school? I snuck another look at his body language; his own arms were slumped, his hands resting on the porch both smeared with his blood.

"You should get a tissue or something, Kyle. You can't afford to lose too much blood if you remember."

Finally, a soft chuckle from him. Memories of a folder with "AB negative" blood type written on it alongside a photo of Cartman must have come back. "Yeah, like the fatass is gonna give me any of his blood. He still resents me taking his kidney."

"Yeah, well I wasn't going just let you leave me to deal with him alone, was I?"

"Stan, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

He got to his feet quickly. "Look, you don't need to act like everything's okay, alright? I can understand why you were mad at me and I'm sorry, I really am… but what's changed? Y'know, two days ago you were baying for my blood and now... you're telling me to get a fucking tissue to stop myself from bleeding! I can understand that you want things to go back to how they were, but it's too soon… and…" he tightened his fists together "Look, I'm sorry, Stan. I want things to go back too… but…"

"You still feel guilty, don't you?"

He nodded. I could always read Kyle like a book. I swear I could tell his feelings better than my own.

"But you still resent me for showing you up as well."

Again, a nod.

"I love you, Stan… but…"

"You don't see how we can carry on after all this crap?"

Why was I so good at this mind reading thing? Maybe spending your whole life with someone did that to people.

"Kyle," I sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I just want to forget what's happened, 'kay? Please… I just want to move on…" I could see he was still uncertain, so I felt I had to mention it. "Kenny talked to me, he told me everything."

"He… what?"

"He told me nothing went on, he told me that he egged you on… he told me that you asked him to leave you alone."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, I told him that."

"Well, I also made it clear to him to stay the fuck away from us. We can make this work again, I know we can."

I felt guilty myself, probably just as much as Kyle. But I knew one other thing; I missed him. Even after just a couple of days I missed him. And I wanted to make it work again. I would have been prepared to sacrifice everything I owned to make it up with him. I didn't know if it was just desire that fuelled my determination here, but I didn't care. Right at that moment, I just wanted to get the best thing that had happened to me back.

"Stan, I…"

"Please, Kyle. I promise I'll do anything to make this work."

He pulled my arm that was still resting on his shoulder around himself and wrapped his free arm around my waist.

"I know you will, Stan. And I will too."

He leaned in for a kiss, which I gladly obliged. It was almost like before… almost.

I knew it would take work, but I was willing to do anything. And yet as we broke apart, his eyes were glued to the floor, the guilt still playing on his mind. I decided to bring his attention back to the real world.

"C'mon, tissue."

He obeyed, walking slowly through the door, into his house towards the bathroom; my hand was gently pushing him forward. In all, I was slightly worried. I had tried, I had tried to put things right and yet… I don't know. The kiss, there was no passion from Kyle, no desire. I was only hoping at this point that it was merely a small problem that would sort itself out in time. After all, we had just agreed to try again after a major argument. They were only teething problems, right?

Only time would be able to tell.

* * *

**Okay, they're back together… ish. Still it's not finished yet. :D**

**And I'm pleased to announce that I've already got the ending chapters typed out. So it's just another few chapters with unknown updates and then regular updates. Huzzah!**

**Anyhow, thanks for reading!**

**Gari**


	7. The Subordination

**Much Ado About Kyle**

**Chapter 7: The Subordination

* * *

**

_"I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books."  
_

_- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing_

* * *

If looks were daggers, I'd be dead by now.

Kenny sat alone at his cafeteria table, occasionally shooting us a glance before returning his eyes to his meagre meal. Although I could swear his looks were deadly, he was keeping to his promise to stay away. At least that was one thing I was thankful for.

It still didn't stop Kyle glancing over at him.

I tried to think nothing of it. It was just a look, just him checking that Kenny was keeping to his bargain as well. It still didn't stop the pang of jealousy echoing through my heart.

"C'mon, Kyle, let's go." I was reluctant to remain another minute in such a hostile vicinity. He hung to my arm obediently, manoeuvring out of the cafeteria table and towards the doors. Neither of us had completely finished eating, but that still didn't stop us dumping our half-empty lunch trays on the shelves as we exited.

And still Kyle looked over his shoulder as we managed to leave.

* * *

"Stan? Stan… I think you should see this…"

I felt a tapping on my shoulder, and I turned to see a face I thought would never attempt to speak to me again.

"What is it?" I reply moodily, my chin resting on my crossed arms.

"Just come with me," said Wendy in a hushed voice. She started to tug at one of my hands. "Stan, please. You need to hear this…"

I complied, the constant yanking on my wrists and that high-pitched way of speaking getting on my nerves.

"… let go of me, fucker!"

I tensed up, recognising that voice almost instantly. "Kyle?"

Wendy put her finger to her lips, motioning towards the open window at the end of the corridor; evidently whoever Kyle was yelling at had made him exceptionally angry. And somehow I could guess who it was even before I glanced down through the glass.

"Kenny, how many fucking times? Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Kyle… please…"

Both Kenny and Kyle were stood below the window, which was open just enough so that their conversation could filter through. I leaned forward, to try and get a better view of their positions, and yet forced myself to retreat further into more of a corner; if either of them saw me...

It was curiosity that kept me there; under normal circumstances I wouldn't have dared peer into what Kyle did without my watchful glare on him. Like I said: Normal circumstances.

"I said, save it! Don't waste your breath," snarled Kyle, before turning away from a scowling Kenny. I felt a sudden surge of anger; hadn't Kenny promised only a few days ago that he would stay away? Still, I must have been a fool to trust any words that had come from his mouth.

Kenny stretched out his hand and grabbed Kyle by the shoulder. "Kyle, look at me!"

"Why!" Kyle swatted the hand away. "I'm going, Kenny. I need to find Stan…"

Kenny let out a sharp laugh at this. "Ooh, perfect Stanley! He's such a wonderful boyfriend isn't he?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Tell me something, Kyle; how's it feel knowing that Stanny-Boy controls who you see now?"

I clenched my fists, tempted to run down to where they stood now and give Kenny a piece of my mind. However, it seemed that Kyle was perfectly capable to do that himself.

"How dar… don't EVER speak about Stan like that, d'you hear me?"

Kenny gave another of his derisive laughs. "I'll talk how I want about him. You see, you don't control me, unlike Stan does over you…"

Kyle flew forwards, grasping Kenny by his shirt. "Oh, Kyle!" giggled Kenny. "This certainly is cosy…"

I wouldn't have been surprised if the slap that Kyle issued to Kenny could have been heard all over South Park. "Now, Kyle…" Kenny wagged his finger, as if to a misbehaving child. "I realise that Stan is a… touchy subject, but you shouldn't take it out on me just because he's jealous whenever you show the slightest bit of affection for anybody else."

I must admit, I half expected Kyle to retaliate again. But I couldn't stop my sharp intake of breath as Kyle slumped and released his vice-like grip on Kenny.

"It's my fault, Kenny. I shouldn't… I can't…" He buried his face in his hands. "He's just going through a tough time right now, and just taking it out on me, that's all. I don't blame him… I deserve it."

Kenny lit up one of his cheap cigarettes, and I wrinkled my nose against the fumes that snuck in through the window frame.

"You deserve better, Kyle," he said calmly, having lost his taunting sing-song voice that he had just a minute ago. "And I say it in all seriousness; if I can't have you, I at least want you with someone I can respect."

My heart literally stopped and felt as if it was constricting my throat. I could see Wendy with a similar look upon her face. I wanted nothing more than to scream through the gap in the window. And yet part of me sunk, as if part of me actually cared about what Kenny thought.

Respect; it was something I had never thought about before. Why? Why didn't he respect me?

He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder, but Kyle did not push him away this time. "Stan… he's the jealous type, Kyle, and he always will be. Remember the egg project? He got some sand in his vagina just because you and Wendy _worked_ together. He'll control you, because he doesn't appreciate what he has. He has had it presented before him with a cherry on top. But me…"

And as I felt my blood boil, Kenny wheeled the silent Kyle around to face him.

"I've never had anything just given to me. And I don't care if you just thought it was casual flirting; I _loved _it. Ky, Ky… look at me…" Kenny was now boring his gaze into Kyle's. "Stan, he may love it. But I'll bet everything I have that he doesn't appreciate it as much as I do."

"Stan… Stan… calm down…" Wendy was holding my arm back as my other fist was resting threateningly on the glass of the window. I ground my teeth furiously. How dare he?

"I swear, Wendy," I muttered. "If he says so much as another word…"

"Shh!" she hissed at me, as Kyle began to reply.

"But I don't love you, I love Stan," he said in a voice so low, I had to get my ear close to the gap in the window to hear, and I felt the constriction in my throat ease. "I love him even when he's being an asshole, so you can quit it with this 'I'm better than Stan' crap, because you're nothing more than a snide pervert who's just trying to get what you want, and… don't interrupt me…" He held up his hand angrily as Kenny meant to speak. "I know what you said to Stan, I know that you promised to stay the fuck away, and you didn't, so leave me alone."

"I know you liked it too, Kyle," said Kenny, with a certain urgency in his voice. "I know that you liked my attention just as much as I enjoyed yours."

"Yes," Kyle breathed after hesitating, and the constriction in my throat returned. "But, so what? It was a crush, Kenny. And I'm sorry you got hurt by it. Yes, I… I do like you, but I love Stan. And that counts for everything."

"But does Stan feel the same way about you?"

"I'm going now, Kenny. I don't want to hear anymore."

Kyle made to walk away from Kenny's last flailing attempt to grab hold of his shoulders again. "Dammit, Kyle! Do you know why I came looking for you? Because I can't stand the idea of the only thing between you and me being him!"

When Kyle made no attempt to show he had heard that last comment, Kenny gave another yell to Kyle's retreating back.

"You're better than him, Kyle! You deserve better than him!"

I watched with a certain sense of pride as Kyle kept walking away, but his last comment had made my blood run cold.

"_You're better than him, Kyle! You deserve better than him!"_

"Stan? Stan, are you okay?" I became suddenly aware that Wendy was still stood beside me. "You've gone really pale."

I looked down to the scent of pungent cigarette smoke; Kenny had lit up again, as well as looking up as he blew out, a smile playing on his face as he spotted me. I could tell exactly what was running through his head in his mere expression. Suddenly an old wave of nausea hit me; I hadn't actually thrown up in years, and still I found myself running to the bathrooms with my hand cupped over my mouth.

* * *

"_Mozzletoff, Kyle!" I said cheerfully, attempting to mimic what others had said before me._

"_It's 'Mazel Tov', Stan," he replied, grinning. "Still, it wouldn't do to have you say it right, gentile."_

"_Shhh!" I whispered, "I think I just about have everyone in your family fooled!" It was true, his parents had only allowed me to attend Kyle's Bar Mitzvah on the condition that I act as Jewish as possible. I nervously straightened the yarmulke balancing precariously on top of my head. Kyle, who wore his as comfortably as his regular green hat clapped me on the back, laughing._

"_Stop fussing, dude! You're doing one hell of a job!"_

"_Yeah well, I just slip in a few 'Oy gevalt!'s here and there. Works like a charm."_

_Kyle tried to look annoyed, but couldn't stop himself from smiling. "I don't know how you do it, Stan; you make a Jew joke, I laugh. Cartman makes a Jew joke, I go crazy."_

"_It's 'cause you looooove me, Jew," I sniggered, pinching his cheeks._

"_Lay off." Kyle looked around at his relatives currently littering the bar; as much as he may have disliked the Jewish stereotypes, he couldn't deny that we both heard "Oh my gawd, I think I'm gonna plotz!" uttered in a thick Yiddish accent. He shook his head before turning back to me with another smile._

"_Well, I'm officially a man now!"_

"_Hmph, well officially I was a man before you."_

"_Ahhh, but Stan," said Kyle. "You can't have a Bar Mitzvah, so you can't become a Man! You need to be Jewish!"_

_I rolled my eyes, as if I was back in third grade religious studies, although third grade religious studies usually consisted of watching The Nanny, as Kyle fumed in the corner. "Don't remind me, dude. At least now I know how it must feel to be you at Christmas."_

"_Hmmm…" Kyle looked down for a moment, scuffing his previously pristine shoes. "I won't deny that the Holiday season does sometimes make me feel…" He cut off, making a show of shaking hands again with a drunken great-uncle Feldstein._

"_Kyle?" I tapped his shoulder, trying to get his attention again. "Kyle?"_

"_Hang on a second, Jesus Christ, you demand my attention a lot don't you?"_

"_Kyle, what were you saying?"_

* * *

"Stan? Stan, are you in here? Stan?"

I heard his footsteps echo in the bathroom; somehow I had known that it was him merely through his footsteps alone, the soft squeak of the trainer and an almost inaudible flap of untied laces. I knew Kyle's shoes like my own.

And even if I hadn't watched the shouting match between him and Kenny, I still could have guessed that he had done some yelling in the slight rasp of his voice. I liked to consider myself a perceptive person. Note, _consider._

Unfortunately, it seemed Kyle was too.

"Stan, I know you're in there. I spent years listening to you vomit over Wendy in third grade, so don't go pretending that you're not there, or nothing's wrong. Now open this door before I break it down!"

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and slowly got to my feet, feeling as if I had suddenly been struck with the flu. I unbolted the stall door, ignoring Kyle trying to take my arm.

"_You're better than him, Kyle! You deserve better than him!"_

"Stan, you look… you look awful… are you…?"

" 'M fine," I coughed, attempting to wash the sickly taste from my mouth with tap water as Kenny's words echoed inside my mind.

"…_deserve better…"_

"Jesus, Stan, you're burning up…"

He didn't know, he couldn't know what I had heard, and as he was fussing over me I remembered a conversation from so long ago…

"_Kyle? What do you think of when you think of the holiday season?"_

_I had dragged him away from the festivities, into a table in the corner. He looked over his shoulder as his father was providing an apt distraction by dancing drunkenly on the table to the Klezmer tune playing throughout the venue. "Kyle, please, just answer me."_

_Kyle tore his eyes away from his spectacle of a father and looked back towards me. "Look, it's nothing, Stan. Can you just drop it?"_

"_No, I can't. Look, I merely mention the holidays and you pretend like it's something taboo, like it can't be talked about. Now, dude, I may not be as clever as you but dammit, I know when there's a problem."_

_He sighed, his eyes almost giving me one last plea to just leave this stroll down memory lane, but he evidently realised that I was far too persistent for that and let out another sigh._

"_Look, how do you feel right now? In the presence of nothing but Jews, celebrating a Jewish custom, and you can't even say 'Mazel Tov' correctly?"_

"_I feel… isolated. Like I wonder… what if I was Jewish at this ceremony? Would it make it any better? For you and for everyone else here? And whether anyone can see that I'm not Jewish, and whether they'll think I'm inferior."_

_The words had rolled easily off my tongue; I had to admit, it wasn't easy being the minority. But Kyle's look of triumph on his face told me I had hit the nail on the head._

"_That's the key word, Stan. Inferior."_

"Stan? My god, you're feverish. Do you want me to take you to the nurse?"

"_Inferior? Kyle…"_

_I was shocked, to say the least. Kyle was smarter, more moral than anybody, how could he possibly… "Kyle, you…"_

"_Stan, would you prefer it if I was Christian for the holidays? Would you prefer me if I was somebody else? Maybe if I wasn't so hot-tempered, or if I cut my hair? Or maybe…?"_

_This had gone beyond the mere conversation about Christmas; I couldn't believe that Kyle was actually here confessing that he didn't think himself good enough for me._

"_Ky, shut up," I said sternly, and his babbling came to a halt. "You're my best friend, and I wouldn't have put up with you for this long if I didn't like you exactly as you are. You're my special hot-headed, Daywalker Jew, right?" I said, playfully punching his shoulder. "And if I didn't like it like that, I would have said. Now don't you dare think like this anymore. You're perfect as you are, and if you even think about changing anything, you'll have me to answer to."_

_I pulled him to his feet. "C'mon, let's dance!"_

Kyle was good enough for me; that much was true. But what if Kenny was right? What if I wasn't good enough for him? Was that why Kyle had been tempted by Kenny? Because I didn't give him everything he needed?

Kenny was right. I am jealous. I am controlling. And much worse.

The question was not whether Kyle was inferior; it was whether I was.

And with these last feverish delusions running through my head, I fell face first onto the floor of the bathroom.

* * *

**Sorry guys. It's been a while. More than that actually. But seeing as I'm going on holiday tomorrow, I thought I'd try and get this up now while I can.**

**Again, terribly sorry about how long it's taken. I intend to start writing chapters on a regular basis from now on, I swear.**

**I feel I should explain one thing; ****The Nanny, which is mentioned in this chapter, is a TV show that thrives on Jewish stereotypes. It's not important, but just a bit of pop culture I threw in. Besides, it's exactly the sort of thing Mr Garrison would do instead of actually TEACH.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Gari.**


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